pretty little pill
by a-isforalison
Summary: Snapshots of Lauren's life with intersex. /or/ She had to live with it. Even though it hurt. She was intersex. And the pills couldn't change that. one-shot [lauren-centric] R&R


Her fingers fumble with the pill bottle's cap, _hurry, you're late._ She can't just twist it off like normal, it won't comply. _Fuck, please, open, damn it!_ She needs her pill. She _needs_ her pill.

No one can know.

And that one, stupid little _(huge)_ secret is why she's locked herself in a bathroom stall, her backpack balanced on her heeled boots, her knees shaking, frantic curses leaving her mouth, and fumbling with those damn pills.

The lid comes off.

The bottle falls to the tiled floor, her pills spilling out.

_No. NO! No, no, no, no, NO! This can't happen to me!_ She swears, "fuck! No, shit! Oh, God, why!?"

She hears the door open. Footsteps flood into life. She freezes, her body tensing. She can't fucking breathe. She can't _fucking _breathe! This is the _worst_ time for this to happen! Not now, not in the eighth grade. She can't deal with this. Her pills are sprawled out on the tile floor of this filthy fucking bathroom, her heart is pounding out of her damn chest, and she's late.

She's so damn late. And pill-less. And ruined.

* * *

><p>She yells at Daddy to transfer schools (and get a refill) in the car, the windows rolled up tight with hopes of no one hearing her secret. The kids at school are already whispering and giggling about how Lauren's a pill popper and Michelle and Arianna caught her in the girl's bathroom. She can't take it, her head is pounding, her secret is threatening to spill out, her world is collapsing.<p>

Even her friends scoffed and walked away.

Oh, how the tides have turned since this morning, when she was the most popular girl in school.

"I _have_ to transfer, Daddy! They _know._ And they hate me," she sobs, her eyeliner and mascara smearing in the tears.

His eyes go wide.

* * *

><p>She paces her room, breathing heavily. "I need the pills," she breathes out, "I need them." She's 14 now, she's thrilled to see how feminine her body looks.<p>

Part of her was scared puberty would be a bitch.

But that's what the pills are for.

Those pretty, pretty little pills. Daddy's out getting her refill. She had another accident with another bottle and those pills are buried in her trash can now.

Her best friends are coming over, they're going to a party with seniors. There's one she likes, the starting quarterback. He stares at her ass when she walks past (and she worries it's because it looks like a boy's ass every time) and he flirts with her sometimes so she thinks he likes her too.

But he won't if he finds out about the pills. And what they're for.

Daddy better hurry.

* * *

><p>She has sex for the first time, with the quarterback. She feels normal for about two minutes before she remembers she doesn't have to worry about buying morning after pills or using condoms or being on the pill because she doesn't <em>have<em> a uterus.

She had testes.

Like a freak.

She's a fucking freak and he'd leave in a heartbeat if he knew. She almost cries but then he's making out with her again, feeling her up.

"You good for round two?" He asks, biting her earlobe.

_No._ "Yeah," she smiles, arching her back a little.

She hates her body.

* * *

><p>She locks herself in her room and cries. She hates her new step-sister, she hates that Daddy fell in love with a weather girl from Austin, she hates living in a blue state, she hates knowing she doesn't really fit in, and she hates that her sister gets to <em>really<em> be a girl.

It's petty but she hates, hates, hates it every time Amy (that bitch) sees her taking those pills and makes that face.

Like how she hates that time she walked in on Amy in the bathroom and saw everything and felt jealous. And hates everything about Austin.

But she just takes another bitter pill and swallows, praying she can stop one day.

She knows it's delusional.

She'll always need the pills.

And she hates that.

* * *

><p>Hold back that follow or favorite,<p>

And trade it for a review,

It'll serve as feedback & motivation for my writing tricks,

And otherwise, I might just slap you.

- Queen Alison the Obstinate


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